


abuse me, don't use me

by irrecular



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Angst, Conditioning, Death, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Enemies to Lovers, Murder, Panic, Power Dynamics, Power Imbalance, Power Play, Stockholm Syndrome, Violence, but not, emotional torture, kind of, mental imprisonment, sicheng rlly wants yuta to raw him but cant really say it, this is really random and its got no plot, this makes it sound really dark it isn't that bad, ygm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:13:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22517542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irrecular/pseuds/irrecular
Summary: " the weak make threats. the strong make promises. "sicheng doesn't know when to stop.
Relationships: Dong Si Cheng | WinWin/Nakamoto Yuta
Kudos: 12





	abuse me, don't use me

There’s fire everywhere. It almost surrounds Sicheng as he runs from the burning chalet. He can hear the screaming - not of pain, but of frustration. They know his name, he knows this won’t go down well. The heat of the fire hits his back, makes his tension grow tenfold, consuming him. Autumn is in the air and the fire follows him in judgment.  
\---  
It’s little after midday, at least that’s what Sicheng assumes. He’s gotten good at using the sun as a clock, but it isn’t always reliable, especially considering the change in season. The bare trees leave him more exposed than usual, but he doesn’t find himself any more frightened than he would be anyway. The whistles of arrows just grazing his skin greets him more often than people. Sicheng leans against a tree, stoic in case of attackers, gathering his breath and tries to rid his nostrils of smoke.  
\---  
He’s still anxious, he knows that targeting the chalet wouldn’t be taken lightly. His radio fritzes, and he almost relaxes at the sound. The response is the only definite in his new life. It alarmingly brings him calm. No voice comes from the device and Sicheng sags against the bark.   
\---  
It feels like hours until he hears a voice.   
\---  
“You’re looking for a death sentence,” is all that comes from the radio. Sicheng feels a smirk tug in response to the accented voice. He brings the radio to his mouth, presses the button and waits a moment to respond.   
\---  
“You took my friends. Did you expect anything less?” comes Sichengs smug response. He feels pride in his accomplishment.   
\---  
No response. Sicheng feels accomplished again.   
\---  
He needs more.   
\---  
“Not many other people could have pulled that off,” Sicheng starts, interrupting himself with a whistle, “gonna take you months to get all that ammo back.” It’s a blatant taunt, one that Sicheng knows won’t work. Deep down maybe, he understands that no matter how many hits he gives them, it won’t affect them at all. But he can’t admit to his perpetrator that he knows he’s winning a losing game.   
\---  
Sicheng tries not to grow angry at the absence of a response. He knows he should be glad - no one as of yet has been sent for him. If he was completely screwed, he’d know about it.   
\---  
He inhales and immediately smells burning, hears the sound of fire - the crackling and groaning of burning debris. For a few seconds, he doesn’t know what’s happening. It takes him a moment to realize it isn’t residual fire from his making, but flamethrowers. Sicheng can hear the release of streams of fire. It makes an ugly shrill noise in his ears. He knows he needs to run, the fire starting to creep up in his peripheral vision. Taking his chance, he sprints across the bare landscape of the forest.   
\---  
Sicheng doesn’t look back. He can’t look back. If there’s one, there’s more. He’s being hunted again, and he doesn’t want to risk capture. He doesn’t want to know how his punishments will change after this.   
\---  
“You can run all you want. In the end, you know you’ll come back to me. You’ll fight and fight and fight, but the result is always the same.” Sicheng grits his teeth and runs until he’s on a main road. There’s no signs and Sicheng misses the voice coming from his radio as he grows panicked.   
\---  
He doesn’t even realize when he’s hit with an arrow, only noticing as he finds he can’t walk. Sicheng relishes in his doom, feeling his eyes close and he passes out with a sigh. Footsteps approach and drag him away.  
\---  
Maybe it’s hours until he wakes up. His first instinct is to stand and run, but he finds his legs tied, along with his arms. He’s on his knees, gagged and bound. Sicheng tries not to succumb to the mania swimming in his veins, but he looks to his side and sees his friends and his panic increases. Taeyong and Taeil look at him in genuine terror, and Sicheng tries not to breakdown at their fear. He has to stay strong for them - for himself.  
\---  
There are footsteps, only one set. As far as Sicheng can tell, there are three people in the room aside from them. Two are standing by the door, the third approaches them. Sicheng refuses to look up, already knowing who it is. Glaring at the floor, he sees him squat down to his level, making eye contact despite the lack of reciprocation. The bleach white hair forces Sichengs attention and he eventually looks at him.   
\---  
Even despite all the horrors Yuta has put him through, Sicheng can’t help but think he looks like an angel. His face is so soft despite his sharp personality. He smiles at him, and Sicheng doesn’t want to be comforted by it. Taeyong and Taeil groan in resistance beside him, and Yuta looks at them with something between apathy and disgust. Sicheng lets out a whine at Yuta’s attention being directed to them, and he hates himself for it. Hates how he needs his validation.  
\---  
Yuta maintains eye contact with him, and it almost makes him uncomfortable. It continues for, what seems to be, five minutes until Yuta rises. The shine of his handgun blinds Sicheng. He almost found it strange to see Yuta without his hands around his beloved rifle. Yuta takes it out of his holster, caressing it in a way that could be considered tender if Yuta was capable of such a thing.   
\---  
He gets a perfect smile flashed at him, but something lies under the surface. Sicheng doesn’t realize what’s about to happen until it happens. Two gunshots are fired, the sound rings in Sichengs ears and he knows what’s happened. Without even looking, he knows. The blood seeps into the knees of his jeans, the smell of gunsmoke and metal enters his nose and he can’t bring himself to look at anything other than Yuta as he kneels in front of him.   
\---  
“I said you were looking for a death sentence.” Yuta looks at him with something like pity, like he’s weak and Sicheng hates it. Then Sicheng sees the butt of Yuta’s gun begin to come down on his head, feels the thud but doesn’t pass out. He doesn’t think he was meant to.  
\---  
“Dump them somewhere,” Yuta demands, leaving the cabin as Sicheng feels his hair matt with Taeyongs blood.

**Author's Note:**

> this was completely spontaneous and its so so so bad lolz  
> if anyone did like this uhhhh idk shout at my in the comments  
> i like it when my inbox goes from 0 to 1 uwu


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